


Against the Tide

by Pixelatrix



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Attitudes, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, M/M, Mild Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:04:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 16,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3764017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixelatrix/pseuds/Pixelatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an AU for my story, Follow the Tide.</p><p>It started with the premise of what would've happened if Dillan had rebelled against his father's expectations for him to be a good marine. What if Dillan had instead decided he hated authority and anything related to the Alliance?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Follow The Tide](https://archiveofourown.org/works/936548) by [Pixelatrix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixelatrix/pseuds/Pixelatrix). 



> Bioware owns all. Sadly.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Beta:CelticGrace & MissMeggo

“Hannah?” Hackett was surprised to find Captain Shepard loitering outside of his office with exhaustion and concern evident on her face. “What happened? Is it Jamieson?”

“Dillan.”

“How about we step back into my office and have a drink?” Hackett had found himself pulled from active duty on his ship to Arcturus by the Admiralty. He was hoping to get back on his cruiser eventually. He moved over to pour two glasses of scotch. “What did he do now?”

“His father came to see him last month since Dillan’s graduating in a few days.” Hannah gulped down half of the tumbler in her hand. “Neil has expectations.”

“Neil is an abusive, over-bearing waste of humanity who should never be allowed near either of you.” Hackett frowned into his own drink. He’d worked hard with Commander Adam Jamieson, Hannah’s new husband to ensure Neil was kept far away from them both.

“You knew?”

“The entire Alliance knows Neil Shepard is a coward and a bastard.” He’d worked hard to try to discredit the man, but without Hannah admitting to anything. The most either Hackett or Jamieson had managed was to have Neil stationed on Earth, far from his ex-wife and son. “Why are you worried about Dillan?”

Hannah set her glass down and stared at her hands for a while. “Neil made a few things clear in their last visit. I didn’t find out until this week what he’d said.”

“And what did he say?”

She waved her hand as if to brush the question off. “Dillan internalized a lot of his father’s insults. He felt like a failure for not protecting me. He’s…angry that Adam is now doing it, and disciplining him.”

“I would imagine that’s a good thing.” Hackett hadn’t spent much time around Dillan.

“Not from my son’s perspective.” Hannah leaned her head against the back of the chair with a groan. “I’m losing him, Steven. He blames the Alliance for what happened to us, to him. I’m worried. He’s eighteen and I can’t exactly force him to listen to me.”

“What’s the worst that Dillan could do?”

“My son has been trained by his father from an early age. He’s skilled with a sniper rifle, beyond skilled. Adam claims that if Dillan went to boot camp he’d easily beat out some of the records for marksmanship. He’d fit right in with any spec ops team.” Hannah sat up straight in her chair. “If we can’t corral my boy into the Alliance, he’ll find somewhere else to use those skills. His father beat into him the skills of a marine and taught him fear and intimidation.”

“Is he a bully?”

She massaged her temples for a few minutes. “I’m explaining this poorly. Dillan has his own sense of fair play. He’d never _behave_ like his father. He…I’m worried after graduation he’s going to throw away his dreams of becoming an officer to find something that he considers to be the polar opposite of the Alliance.”

“I have six reports to fill out, Hannah. I’m not really seeing why you’ve brought this to my attention. I’m not his father.” Hackett pushed around a couple of the datapads on his desk. “What do you want me to do?”

“Talk to him.”

Hackett raised an eyebrow at his good friend. “Me? Have I ever demonstrated an ability to deal with teenagers? What in the hell do you think I’ll be able to do?”

Hannah’s sudden smile didn’t make him feel any better. “Dillan will listen to you.”

“Why?”

“Just try, Steven, please? You still owe me a favour.”

“Fine.” Hackett pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed _loudly_. “Since I assume he won’t come to me, where can I find him?”

“The brig.”

“The brig. Why is your eighteen your old son who should be in class right now in the brig?”

“He was caught in a compromising position with Lieutenant Quinn.” Hannah’s response took him by complete surprise.

“Quinn? He’s my age.” Hackett frowned at Hannah. “No. I am _not_ dealing with some eighteen year old punk who has a thing for older men.”

Though Hackett wasn’t quite worth the effort, Hannah managed to convince him to go speak with Dillan. He hadn’t seen the young Shepard in a while. He was stunned by the grown man who sat in the cell which the officer on duty led him to.

Lounging on the hard bench, Dillan seemed completely carefree and unmoved by his surroundings. It was easy to see what drew Quinn in. With sharp, blue eyes and brown hair so dark it was almost black, his hair was slicked back and longer than Hannah probably approved of. He had a sinful smirk. The eighteen year old was the epitome of sexual decadence and temptation.

Quinn had never been known for much self-control. He wouldn’t have stood a chance against the Dillan Shepard. Not dressed as he was in tight blue jeans and a leather jacket, it did look as if he had anything on underneath the jacket.   Hackett, however, was made of much sterner stuff.

“Well, hello.” Dillan sat up from where he’d been stretched out on the bench. He swung his legs around and grinned wickedly up at Hackett. His eyes strayed all the way down the older man’s body; linger by his belt, then finally going back up to meet his gaze. “I’d wager you’re a good eight or nine inches long.”

Hackett blinked at him several times, stunned at his blatant perusal. “Excuse me?”

“Maybe closer to nine.” Dillan ran his fingers down his well-defined upper body that was on display thanks to his open jacket. “See something you like? Wanna have a taste? I’ve been told I’m rather lick-able.”

“Zip your damn jacket up before I do it for you.” Hackett snapped at him. He was not about to let this barely legal twerp get to him.

“Ohh, does daddy like to play it rough?” Dillan’s fingers played with the zipper.

“One more word and I’ll walk out the door and leave you to rot in the brig for a few days.” Hackett gave him a hard stare until Dillan shrugged with a long suffering sigh and zipped his jacket up. “Now, get your ass up. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“So is it eight or nine inches?”

“None of your business.”

“Oh, but I’d really like it to be.” Dillan stretched as he got to his feet.

Hackett blinked in surprise yet again when the teen came close to towering over him. He wondered how tall Dillan would end up being given he had probably one more growth spurt to go. “Behave yourself.”

“Will you spank me if I don’t?”

“Someone needs to.” Hackett pinched the bridge of his nose for a second time and cursed the favour he’d owed to Hannah. “How about we get some coffee and talk about your future?”

“And if I don’t want to?”

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you if it’s eight or ten inches, and you’ll listen to what the hell I want to talk to you about. Agreed?” Hackett had a feeling that where Hannah and Adam had gone wrong was using military style discipline on a young man who’d seen enough of that from his abusive father. Dillan wasn’t going to respond to threats well. “I’ll buy coffee and breakfast, we’ll talk and then you can get your ass to school.”

“Deal.” Dillan hesitated after they stepped out of the brig. “So?”

“Nine.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So...a quick note here. This is obviously AU for a variety of reasons, but most significantly because I'm pretending the Reapers don't exist. =)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bioware owns all. Sadly.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Beta:CelticGrace & MissMeggo

Adults in position of authority were relatively speaking all the same in Dillan’s mind. They always asked the same questions about ‘what are you going to do after school?’ He had grown so tired of it that he’d started to get creative with his answers. The Admiral sitting across from him didn’t seem amused by his flippant response.

_What was wrong with wanting to run off to join the circus?_

He thought he’d make a very attractive clown.

“You’d make a sad clown.” Hackett’s response lacked the normal outrage at his cheek. “Don’t you have any goals you’d like to achieve?”

“Aside from seeing you without clothes on?” Dillan smirked at Hackett when his eyes narrowed. “I don’t know why everyone’s so fucking hot and bothered about my future. If you must know, I’ve accepted a spot on a pro-surfing team based out of Santa Cruz.”

“Surfing?”

“Much to my marine father’s dismay, his slacker son is a gifted surfer.” Dillan sneered at his coffee while he thought about the time his father snapped his surfboard in half after he’d won his first competition. It had taught him a harsh lesson about keeping his accomplishments a secret, even from his beloved mother. “I believe his exact words were ‘no son of mine is going to be a waste of space hippy,’ a fine demonstration of Alliance assholeness at its finest.”

“We’re not all like your father, Dillan. Adam is…”

“Jamieson has a stick so far up his ass that his tongue gets splinters.” Dillan appreciated what the man had done for his mother. He just hadn’t been able to truly connect with his step-father. “He’s a good man, but I’m not the kind of son you ‘Alliance types’ seem to approve of.”

“You…”

“Why exactly did my mother put you up to this?” Dillan decided it didn’t matter how fuckable the man was. He’d dealt with enough marines for one day. “I’m not interested in hearing how well you think I’d do as a soldier. I might like fucking them, but I don’t want to be one.”

“If…”

“No.”

“You interrupted me one more time, boy, and I’ll take you over my knee so fast you won’t know what hit you.” Hackett ground out through clenched teeth.

“Promise?” Dillan made a show of licking drop of coffee from his bottom lip.

“You’ve got balls of steel.”

“They’re a bit cold. Want to fix that for me?” Dillan found himself enjoying the barest hint of a smile that flew across Hackett’s face. “Seriously, I’ll never join the Alliance so why waste your breath. Why would I want to?”

“Family history? The chance to be a hero? Not throwing your life away?” Hackett stirred his coffee absently while listing off what he clearly believed were important reasons.

“History is over-rated. Heroes don’t get laid, and they tend to die painfully. And what’s wrong with throwing my life away if I’m the one in control of it?” He chugged down the last of his cold, overly sweet coffee. “It’s been _educational_ truly, but if I can’t see you without your uniform…why am I here?”

“Give it a chance.”

“No.” Dillan pushed his mug away from him and got to his feet. “Thanks for bailing me out and giving me new material for my wet dreams.”

“Dillan?”

He paused a few steps away from the table to glance back over his shoulder. “Hmm?”

“Why Quinn?” Hackett asked curiously.

“He’s a friend of my father’s.”

“You slept with a man because he’s a friend of Neil’s?” Hackett looked so stunned it was amusing.

“Yeah. Have a problem with that?” Dillan stalked back over to the table and bent down until his lips brushed against Hackett’s ear. “Do you want me to tell you what we did together? Would you like all the dirty little details?”

Hackett stood abruptly and caught Dillan by the front of the shirt. He shoved him back through the restaurant until they reached a secluded alcove off a hallway. He pressed Dillan up a against the wall. “Do _not_ touch me again with my permission. Is that understood? Quinn might enjoy playing with jail bait, but I have zero interest in toying around with someone who’s still wet behind the ears. Are we clear?”

“I won’t lie, Admiral, I might’ve just made a mess of my pants. That was fucking hot.” Dillan laughed when Hackett immediately released him. “You can manhandle me anytime.”

“Just…keep your hands and lips to yourself, all right?” Hackett groaned in obvious exasperation.

“You might change your mind.”

“Not a chance.” Hackett walked away without another word, leaving Dillan to watch him highly amused.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bioware owns all. Sadly.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Beta:CelticGrace & MissMeggo

Surfing for Dillan had to be the greatest high possible without over-indulging himself in something stronger than a stolen drink from his dad’s booze cabinet. He’d experimented enough to be a capable judge. It was a phase he’d gone through at sixteen.   Jamieson had guided him back toward surfing and away from his father to help him out of the drugged haze.

He was grateful to the man.

_He honestly was very grateful._

If only the bastard would stop trying to shove him toward the Alliance recruitment office, Dillan might not mind having him as a step-father. He butted heads with Jamieson almost as much as his father. It was generally for different reasons though.

Neither man liked the idea of Dillan being _free_ after his graduation.

When the offer to go pro had come in, Dillan had thanked his lucky stars. Surfing could provide the life he wanted. It would also be the perfect cover for his other endeavours.

Aside from his talents with a surf board, Dillan could charm the secrets out of anyone. He’d learned as a child how powerful information he could. His father certainly used it to control his mother.

Hannah spent most of her Alliance career on various chips. Neil, on the other hand, had been stationed at the same base on Earth for the past fifteen years as a drill instructor. His parents had agreed it would be better for their son to be in one place, rather than hopping around from cruiser to cruiser.

Staying with his father provided him with an interesting education along with an intense hatred for the Alliance. Neil Shepard excelled at three things: bullying, bragging and drinking. He had very loose lips around his son. From a young age, Dillan had hoarded all the bits of information he heard.

His mother had eventually realized what his father was doing and divorced him. Hannah had fought for custody and won. Jamieson had come long later, much to Dillan’s dismay.

At the age of fifteen, Dillan realized the lucrative business at his fingertips. With the help of a hacker friend, he created a second identity then delved into the seedy information black market. All the secrets he sold lead directly back to his father without impacting himself.

He saw it as justice for all the shit his father did to him.

The credits were an added bonus. He’d left them in a savings account for after his graduation. He intended to be completely self-reliant. He wanted _nothing_ from his parents. It would come with strings maybe nicer ones from his mother and Jamieson, than his father—but strings nonetheless.

He tried never to sell any information which could cost the lives of marines. It wasn’t something he necessarily wanted on his conscious. He didn’t mind causing the Alliance embarrassment.   Two years in and his alter-ego had already begun to make quite a name for himself.

His closest friend happened to be one of the most talented hackers in the world—Gregory Duncan. Greg had an axe of his own to grind with the Alliance. His father had been killed owing to friendly fire. His mother never recovered from the loss and died a year later.

“Oi, Dillan!”

He rolled out of bed and got to his feet to find Greg leaning against the doorway to his bedroom. “Bit early, isn’t it? I thought you didn’t _do_ mornings.”

“Got the dirt on Hackett.” He waved a datachip around before tossing it to Dillan who threw his hand out to snatch it out of the air. “Nice. I brought breakfast.”

“So, anything good?” Dillan trudged groggily over to slump into the chair by his private terminal to check out the datachip. “Greg?”

“Your father’s back on Arcturus.” Greg slouched on one of the bean bags running along the wall across from his bed. “I saw him arguing with Jamieson on my way here.”

“Fuck.” Dillan ran his fingers through his hair roughly with a groan. “Just what I need.”

“Maybe Jamieson will break his jaw again.” He nudged his buddy with a grin then handed him a wrapped sandwich. “Eat, then you can delve into the deep, dark secrets of one Admiral Steven Hackett.”

“Deep, dark secrets?”

“Well, it’s a bit boring to say I found jack shit on the man, isn’t it?” Greg stretched his long legs out and yawned then coughed when Dillan tossed a piece of bacon into his open mouth. “Asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“So, what’s the deal with this admiral then?”

“I like him,” Dillan shrugged.

“You like me.”

“Yes, but that one time we kissed turned you straight.” Dillan grinned broadly at Greg.

They’d been fifteen and experimenting quite a bit with a lot of things. Dillan had always known he found men attractive. It had taken one sloppy kiss for Greg to determine that men had _all_ the wrong equipment.

“I believe that had more to do with the kisser.” Greg dodged the second bit of sandwich flung his direction. “So? Tell me about Hackett.”

“He bailed me out of the brig.”

“And?”

“I accosted him.”

“How shocking.” Greg batted away a chunk of egg. “Will you eat that fucking thing and stop throwing it at me?”

“I want him.”

“A hot older man? Again, how shocking.”

Dillan grinned at him unrepentantly. “He’s different this one.”

“Why?”

“I couldn’t talk him out of his pants.”

“Now that _is_ shocking.” Greg nodded towards the datachip. “You won’t find anything helpful there. I meant it when I said I couldn’t find anything on him.”

“Dillan? Are you up?” His mother knocked before stepping into his room. “Oh hello, Gregory, how did you get in here?”

“I let him in,” Dillan lied smoothly. He didn’t think his mother would appreciate knowing Greg could hack the door to just about any apartment on Arcturus. “Something wrong?”

“Your father came for your graduation. Try to not antagonize him, please? I’d prefer Adam not have a reason to attempt to rearrange his face again.” Hannah eyed the two of them suspiciously. “And Greg?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“If you break into my home again, I’m going to let Adam rearrange _you._ ” She strode down the hall leaving the teens in stunned silence.

“She’s terrifying,” Greg shuddered.

“I wonder where my admiral is.”

“Dillan.”

“What?”

“I know that look; we got a one month suspension because of that look.” Greg leaned forward to snag the sandwich before Dillan could throw it at him. “Can’t this wait until we’re down with the academy and our parents can’t ground us?”

“No.”

“Fuck.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greg: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/117248774101


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bioware owns all. Sadly.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Beta:CelticGrace & MissMeggo

Hackett was practically asleep on his feet when he finally made it back to his apartment.   The fleet war games had gone on a little longer than anticipated. His group won them, _of course_ , and had to deal with the hurt feelings of the third and fourth fleet admirals. They were all sore losers.

He’d been sharing a few drinks with Anderson and a few other officers when Neil Shepard decided to show up. The man was already half-drunk and proceeded to throw back shot after shot. The bartender tried to cut him off, but he grabbed a bottle from behind the bar.

It had taken six of them to get the man under control. Their plan to let him sleep it off failed when he caught sight of Jamieson. Hackett had been highly amused when one jab to the jaw was all it took for the larger man to knock Neil to the ground.

The amusement only increased when Hackett realized Neil Shepard had been tossed into the brig cell that his son had been in a few nights ago. Deciding it would be wise to put the enigmatic young Shepard out of his mind. He headed home to get some well-deserved rest in the peace and quiet of his apartment.

“What in the _hell_ are you doing?” Hackett flipped the light switch on in his bedroom to stare stunned at the completely nude young man stretched out on top of his bed.

Dillan stretched languidly with his muscles shifting as his arms went over his head. He rolled his hips slightly while his back arched. His blue eyes were filled with amusement though they stayed focused on Hackett. “Hello.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hackett felt remarkably strong for being able to keep his eyes _up_ and away from the slightly spread muscular thighs. “I’m waiting for a damn answer.”

“Stretching.” Dillan sat up with his back against one of Hackett’s pillows. He smirked at him while continue to move himself in an obviously exaggerated fashion. “I had a hard work-out.”

Hackett ran a tired hand across his short, greying hair. “Tell your friend Gregory that if I find he’s hacked any doors other than his own and yours again, I’ll do a lot more than have you both suspended. Is that clear?”

Blue eyes blinked at him in confusion, Dillan seemed bewildered by the fact that Hackett knew all about his best friend. He used the moment to snag the jeans and shirt which had clearly been discarded on his floor to toss them onto the bed. It was his turn to laugh as the younger man pouted at him.

“Not even one look?” Dillan ran his fingers down his chest to the area Hackett was desperately trying to avoid. “You’ve got fucking will of iron.”

“Get dressed and get out. I’m too damn tired to deal with you.” Hackett folded his arms across his chest and glared sternly down at the eighteen-year-old. “You get one free pass, son. That’s it.”

“Yes, _daddy.”_ Dillan mocked him while shoving his legs into his jeans in quick, jerky movements. “Do you _ever_ just relax and have fun?”

“Yes.”

Grabbing Dillan by the arm, Hackett snatched up his shirt to toss over the teen’s shoulder while propelling him down the hall. He directed him pointedly toward the front door then made his own way toward the kitchen for a much needed drink. A quiet chuckle caught his attention while he took his first sip.

"Are you still here?” Hackett frowned at Dillan as he leaned against the wall by the front door. “I said _leave.”_

“I just _wanted_ a kiss. Is that too much to ask for?” Dillan tilted his head to the side while slowly buttoning up the shirt that he’d haphazardly thrown on while being shoved toward the door. “C’mon.  I’m a fragile flower, I can’t handle rejection.”

“Fragile flower?”

“Delicate and shit.” Dillan stalked forward until he stood in front of Hackett. “Just a kiss.”

“The answer is no, son. Now get out.”

* * *

 

_From: Hannah Shepard_

_To: Steven Hackett_

_Subj: re: Dillan._

_What do you mean my son is a menace? He’s been in his room all night. I can hear him chattering away with his shadow, Greg._

_What did he do?_

_If anyone’s a menace, it’s the ridiculous idiots who got plastered at the bar. My husband is going to have a hell of a hangover in the morning. I imagine my ex-husband isn’t going to be much better._

_Hannah_

* * *

 

“Turned you down?”

Dillan shushed Greg while tiptoeing into his room. He waited until his door sealed to flop down onto his bed with a melodramatic sigh. “Not even a goodbye kiss.”

“I told you it was a stupid ass idea.”

Dillan kicked his foot out to catch Greg in the shin. “Your confidence in me is overwhelming.”

“Your confidence is _overwhelming._ ” He shot back with a smirk before blocking the second kick thrown his way. “So what’s the plan?”

“For Hackett?”

“No you fucking idiot, for our upcoming graduation.” Greg shook his head and captured Dillan’s ankle to stop him from trying to kick him for a third time. “Quit it you shithead. We need to focus. How the hell are we getting off Arcturus to head to Santa Cruz?”

“Ahh, that.” Dillan yanked his leg out of his friend’s hand and reclined back on his bed to stare up at the ceiling to contemplate the best course of action. “We have to attend the graduation ceremony, but we can either leave with a bang or sneak out.”

“Sneak out. We don’t need the drama.” Greg pulled up his omni-tool to show Dillan what looked like a panel of screens showing several different offices. “I’ve gotten monitoring devices in six admiral’s offices. I’ve also managed to sneak one on your father’s omni-tool.”

“Perfect.” Dillan hoped eventually someone in the Alliance would track the leaks back to Neil Shepard so his father would finally reap the rewards for his atrocious behaviour. “Where the hell are we going to set up our office? It can’t be in Santa Cruz.”

“Maui.”

“Why?”

“Close to surfing, close to one of the underground markets and we can easily blend in with the rest of twenty-somethings who are there to party.” Greg grabbed a ball from the floor to start a game of toss with Dillan. “And we can easily shuttle back and forth.”

“Odds of this shit blowing up in our face eventually?”

“High.”

“Brilliant.” Dillan dropped his head onto the bed with a groan. “Who’s the closest admiral to Hackett?”

“Why?”

“Just find out.”

“ _Dillan.”_

It didn’t take much to get Greg to dig through the Alliance files to discover that Steven Hackett’s closest friend was one Admiral Markos Becker. The two had joined the academy at the same time. They’d shut up the ranks together.

“Well, he’s fucking hot.” Dillan leaned over Greg’s shoulder to get a look at the vid of the two men from the recent war games. “I’d fuck him.”

“What about Hackett?”

“Jealous is a fabulous motivator.”

“And if he’s not jealous?”

“Well now you’re just being a depressing little shit.” Dillan flicked him on the ear. “It’s worth a shot. How could he possible resist me?”

“Hackett did.”

“I dislike you so much that I’m going to ignore your dismal attempts to ruin my good mood.” Dillan huffed at his laughing best friend. “Shithead.”

* * *

 

**_Preview of the next chapter:_ **

_“What the hell are you doing with that smug little punk?” Hackett dragged Becker out of the bar into a nearby alley. “Losing the war games has clearly addled your brain.”_

_“Why Steven, I didn’t know you cared about my little flings. Jealous? Which one of us are you jealous of, I wonder? Me? Or the smug punk who is far from little?” Becker reached down to forcefully remove the hand on his arm. “Want to join us then?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Face Reference: Markos: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/117692496271/silverfoxmen-christopher-gernon-model


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bioware owns all. Sadly.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Beta:CelticGrace & MissMeggo

If Dillan had attempted to orchestrate his first meeting with Admiral Becker, it couldn’t have gone any better than it did. He’d been working out in one of the non-Alliance gyms when his father found him. Grabbing his jacket, he attempted to slip out of the room before Neil could make a scene of some sort.

He was _unsuccessful._

“The hell did you think you were doing with Quinn.” His father’s fist caught him by surprise when he stepped out of the locker room. Dillan hit the floor with muffled groan when his head hit the wall behind him. “I’ve told you to get your shit straight, boy. And I’m not going to fuck around with you anymore. You’re going to boot camp, and you’re going to get some sense knocked into you if I have to do it myself.”

“And this shit is why I told mom restraining orders are a waste of space.” Dillan eased himself up to sit against the wall, prepared to fight back. “See you, all up in my fucking business. And why? Because I screwed someone that you know? You’ve got issues. I’m eighteen, so back the fuck off.”

“I told your mother that she’s ruin you. Look at you, a bum, no plans for the future and screwing around with men.” Neil sneered at him in disgust. “You’re nothing, you’ve always been nothing and despite my best efforts, you’ll always _be_ nothing but a waste of my sperm.”

Just as Dillan was about to launch himself at his asshole of a father, a man _much_ larger than Neil caught him by the back of the shirt and physical dragged him out of the gym. Getting slowly to his feet, Dillan followed the two and watched in amusement as the admiral that he’d been hoping to meet beat the shit out of his father. He leaned against the wall to gingerly check his busted lip and his head for injuries while enjoying the show.

“Get him off my station.” Becker shoved a battered looking Neil toward two marines who’d been hovering nearby. He turned his attention almost immediately toward Dillan. “Are you okay? You look like you could use a medic.”

“Off your station?” Dillan smirked at the man. “Your station? All of this is yours? Are you single? I need someone to keep me in the lavish lifestyle I delusional feel I should become accustomed to.”

Becker raised a single eyebrow at him in response.

“So…I _am_ Dillan Shepard.”

Becker’s eyebrow went even higher.

“I like the strong silent type.” Dillan ran his tongue over the break in his lip in an overly exaggerated fashion. “Wanna kiss it better for me?”

“Not into blood.”

“I’ve got other places you can kiss that are blood free.” He tilted his head slightly to look up through his long eyelashes, playing on the strength of his sharp blue eyes. “Buy me a drink.”

“Is that a request?”

“Nooope.” Dillan drew out the word with a low seductive drawl. “Ever been to Cosmos?”

“The dive bar that we keep trying to shut down?”

“Yeah, could you stop that? Greg and I need a place to get beer without being hassled.” He grinned shamelessly at the admiral. “So…can I buy you a beer?”

“Looking for another marine to notch off your screw list?” Becker led Dillan toward a nearby clinic to have his injuries checked out.

He told the medic the injuries were from a training accident much to Dillan’s amusement. The two men were silent while the doctor made sure he hadn’t lost any of his brain cells. Becker even managed to talk the man out of making an ‘ _official’_ report.

It wasn’t long before they were sitting across from each other at a small booth at Cosmos. Dillan sipped his beer while enjoying the way Becker’s black, long-sleeved t-shirt was tight enough to show his impressive muscles. The man seemed _highly_ amused by the blatant leering.

Dillan leaned across the small table to peer at the large chunky metal bracelet on Becker’s wrist. He stretched an arm out to run his finger across the links. “A gift from your…lover?”

“I am currently un-loved.” Becker captured Dillan’s hand in an almost painful grasp when he started caressing the skin underneath the bracelet. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“An attempt at subtlety, it’s not my strong suit. I’m much better at crawling under the table and acquainting myself with the impressive package I saw outlined in the crotch of your jeans earlier.” Dillan found it encouraging that his hand hadn’t been released. His grin broadened when he noticed a very _angry_ looking Hackett storming across the bar. “We have a visitor.”

“An angry visitor.” Becker glanced absently at Hackett. “Steven?”

Without bothering to speak to either of them, Hackett caught his fellow admiral by the arm to start pulling him away from the table. Since Becker’s hand was still on Dillan, he ended up being dragged along with them. He wasn’t sure Hackett even realized he was there when the man started to berate Becker.

“What the hell are you doing with that smug little punk?” Hackett dragged Becker out of the bar into a nearby alley. “Losing the war games has clearly addled your brain.”

“Why Steven, I didn’t know you cared about my little flings. Jealous? Which one of us are you jealous of, I wonder? Me? Or the smug punk who is far from little?” Becker reached down to forcefully remove the hand on his arm. “Want to join us then?”

“ _Join you?”_ Hackett looked completely stunned, _and_ interestingly enough, as interested as Dillan felt at the idea. “Join both of you? He’s eighteen.”

“He’s legal.”

“Barely.”

“He’s standing right next to you in case your old, addled brains missed that fact.” Dillan finally managed to pull his hand out from Becker’s.

“So, are you a smug punk who is all talk? Or can you back up your words with actions?” Becker ignored the sputtering coming from Hackett to focus on Dillan. “Think you can handle the two of us?”

“I can handle any damn thing you throw at me.” He brought himself up straight and puffed his chest out. “Bring it on, old man.”

“He really is a smug little shit. Well, Steven, how about it?” Becker went back to pretending Dillan wasn’t there.

“No.” Hackett shook his head. “He’s…no.”

* * *

 

**_Preview of the next chapter:_ **

Dillan twisted his head around while testing the strength of the ropes keeping him tied to the bed. He hadn’t exactly anticipated Becker and Hackett deciding to show him how out of his league they were. He’d done a lot for his relatively young age. This was _definitely_ something new.

_“Well, shit.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Style Reference for Markos:  
> http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/117700321531/retrodrive-casual-male-fashion-blog  
> http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/118116489141/raven-nest-andi-rose-fashion-jewelry-men-bangle


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Penthesilea for giving me the tango idea!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bioware owns all. Sadly.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Beta:CelticGrace & MissMeggo

Dillan twisted his head around while testing the strength of the ropes keeping him tied to the bed. He hadn’t exactly anticipated Becker and Hackett deciding to show him how out of his league they were. He’d done a lot for his relatively young age. This was _definitely_ something new.

_“Well, shit.”_

He hadn’t ever been tied down to a bed in a guest room while the two men that he’d been interested in fucked each other _loudly_ in the room nearby. There was the slimmest possible that it had been deserved. He wasn’t unaware of his ability to be entirely too smug for his own good.

It just seemed a little unfair not to at least let him watch.

Being restricted to the bed, Dillan found himself with _plenty_ of time to consider a suitable revenge. He knew several of the fleets were getting together to celebrate the war games over the weekend before they all had to head back to their duties. There was a big party planned at one of the more _Alliance_ friendly clubs on Arcturus.

Greg knew the DJ at the place really well. They’d grown up together on a colony before their parents moved to Arcturus. If Dillan could convince him to call in a favour, he might be able to send _both_ admirals jealous at the same time.

And if _this_ didn’t work, Dillan decided he’d have to just give upon the idea. He did have bigger things to worry about outside of wanting to fuck Hackett and Becker. It would only be a few more months before he moved to Earth and truly began not only his surfing career, but expanding his side business.

“Enjoy the show?” Hackett strode into the room, dressed in only a pair of grey boxers. He leaned against the door frame and stared sternly down at the unusually quiet Dillan. “Nothing to say now?”

“Let me go before I break your damn head board.” Dillan hadn’t tested his strength against the ties or the wooden slats behind him. He didn’t work out for nothing however, and had a feeling he could snap the boards if he really wanted to get out. “I’ll let you two stingy bastards get back to enjoying yourself if you’ll be so kind as to cut me loose.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say? We’ve listened to nothing but your smart mouth for days. Tie your ass up for a couple of hours, and suddenly you’re as docile as a kitten.” Hackett didn’t look like he believed it for a moment.

“I did warn you.” Dillan tensed his arms then yanked down as hard as he could.

The wood behind him gave an impressive and satisfying crack as it snapped in two. It covered the bed and Dillan in a shower of splinters. He sat up and reached into his jeans pocket for the small knife he carried with him. He sliced through the bindings on his ankles then the ones left on his wrists.

Hopping up to his feet, Dillan glanced back at the now partially demolished bed. He turned a smug grin toward Hackett who was staring at him in surprise. It was exhausting how the Alliance types always seemed to underestimate his strength and abilities.

“Just because I didn’t fucking free myself, didn’t mean I didn’t have the ability to.” Dillan casually brushed off the splinters from his shirt and jeans. “I’ll never turn down a free show, even if all I get is the audio. I’ll be wanking to your damn moans for days and days, dreaming about what your nine inches looked like going into Becker. Or did he do you? It was kind of hard to tell.”

“You…”

“Have a good day, Admiral.” Dillan sauntered by the stunned man.

Pausing to smack Hackett’s ass on his way by, Dillan continued swiftly through the living room and out the door. He released a breath when neither man made an attempt to stop his progress and snorted loudly and helplessly with laughter to himself. Greg was never going to believe this shit. _Ever._

“You’re going to have to repeat all of that slowly, I’m not sure I heard you right.” Greg remarked after spitting out soda everywhere.

“I just spanked Admiral Hackett’s ass.”

“And you’re still alive?”

“Obviously.” Dillan leaned back in the chair and propped his feet up on Greg’s mattress. “So…I have an idea.”

“No.”

“Gregory.”

“How painful is this going to be?” Greg groaned.

“Remember all those tango lessons we had forced on us?” Dillan grinned when Greg groaned even louder.

“ _No.”_

“One dance. And you know we looked damn good dancing together,” Dillan cajoled encouragingly.

“I know you, Dillan, it’ll be one dance and something else. You’re playing with fire with those two admirals.” His best friend shook his head in concern. “I hope to hell you know what you’re doing.”

“You saying you don’t want to help me kick dirt in a couple of officers’ faces?”

“Well, when you put it like that.” Greg lifted his soda in salute to him. “What _exactly_ are we doing?”

It hadn’t taken much to convince Greg and then to convince his DJ buddy. Both of them held a healthy dislike for the Alliance in general, so the chance to take over an officers’ party was hard to resist. They debated the details over pizza and beers long into the night.

The night of the party, Dillan made sure that he’d taken _excessive_ care of his appearance. Greg dressed down in jeans and a black button-up shirt. He was…really nothing more than a prop for the _show_ that Dillan was about to put on.

Dressing down didn’t even come into the equation when considering his own attire. Dillan dressed in the tightest leather pants with suspenders, but no shirt. He slicked his hair back and made sure his skin looked _pristine._

Well, as pristine as it could with both of his nipple’s pierced and the large tattoo which covered his entire left ribcage and part of his pack. It was an ocean scene with the edges drawn to appear as if the skin had been peeled back to reveal the artwork. His mother hadn’t seen any of his adornments yet.

He hoped she wouldn’t for a long damn time. Lectures weren’t his favourite thing in the world. His mother’s disappointed look hurt more than anything else, certainly more than his father’s belt and fists ever had.

“I think you forgot your shirt.” Greg’s eyebrows rose up into his hairline when he caught sight of his entire. “Would a shirt have killed you?”

“Yep.”

“The things I do for my friends.” He dodged out of the way of Dillan’s fist. “Save it for the dance.”

The club was completely crowded when they arrived. Dillan insisted on waiting until he knew for certain that the objects of his lust were at the bar. He nodded to Greg who leaned over to get their music lined up.

They’d picked a song which had more of a hard edge to it than the typical tango music. They’d perfected a routine over the years which came out more like a rhythmic fight than a strict tango. It would show off Dillan’s body the best, particularly since the lights would be focused on the two of them.

Once the room went dark, Dillan and Greg snuck out onto the centre of the dance floor which had been cleared moments earlier. A spotlight flashed out them just as the crash of drums signalled the start of their music. They stalked around each other with sharp, almost jagged movements.

Though Dillan focused on the steps, his eyes strayed frequently toward where Hackett and Becker were watching. The two men hadn’t looked away the moment the dancing started. He let Greg spin him around in their direction and came to a sudden halt directly in front of _his_ admirals.

“ _Enjoy.”_ He spoke in a low, heated whisper for their ears alone. “You could’ve had this.”

With an impressive leap across the room, Dillan took control of their dancing. He led Greg through intricate movements and crisp turns. They were breathing heavily, covered in sweat by the time the music stopped.

Leaving Greg to the applause and to get beers, Dillan stepped outside to catch his breath. He heard two sets of familiar footsteps approaching and decided the _show_ must go on. He traced a line of sweat down his chest with his index finger, pausing to idly flick one of his nipple rings.

He started to reach down to grab the pack of cigarettes hidden in his pocket when a warm hand wrapped around his wrist to stop the movement. “Did we crash your party?”

“You’re the cockiest little shit that I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.” Becker held Dillan’s arm loosely, using it to tug him closer to the two men. “You piqued our interest.”

“Did I? How nice for me.” Dillan pulled his arm away and took a step back. “Have a nice evening, admirals.”

“That’s it?”

Dillan grinned over his shoulder while continuing to move away from them. “What? Did you think you were the only men on Arcturus for me? I’m leaving in a few days anyway. My father likes to say I have the attention span of a flea. Maybe I decided to jump on another dick.”

“You should be careful who you play games with, son. It might backfire on you.” Hackett didn’t seem surprised by Dillan’s move.

“You’ve already tied me up.” Dillan let his fingers play with his nipple ring, enjoying the way their eyes kept flicking down to the jewellery.

“Next time, we might stay in the room with you,” Becker said casually.

“I’m counting on it.” Dillan strolled away from the two men with a confidence in his step.

* * *

 

**_Preview of the next chapter:_ **

For the second time in a couple of days, Dillan found himself tied up. This time it wasn’t that much fun. He hadn’t realized his father was attending the Alliance party. It had been a long time since Neil punished his son by locking him up.

“This is bullshit.” He pulled his knees up to his chest and slowly eased his arms underneath them until he could get them in front of him. He used his omni-tool to send a message to Greg. “Fucking bullshit.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dillan's Tattoo: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/117688782736/tattrx-lucy-hu-adaptation-of-this-lippo-piece
> 
> Dillan's piercing: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/118214562766/piercednipples-robert-banner-by-gilles-crofta
> 
> Dillan's outfit: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/118214303001/mundobrazil-jacey-elthalion


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bioware owns all. Sadly.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Beta:CelticGrace & MissMeggo

For the second time in a couple of days, Dillan found himself tied up.  This time it wasn’t that much fun.  He hadn’t realized his father was attending the Alliance party.  It had been a long time since Neil punished his son by locking him up.

“This is bullshit.” He pulled his knees up to his chest and slowly eased his arms underneath them until he could get them in front of him. He used his omni-tool to send a message to Greg. “Fucking bullshit.”

His father didn’t _approve_ of men dancing with each other.  He didn’t approve of men doing _anything_ together, aside from fighting.  Dillan enjoying all aspects of another man had always been one of the major points of their arguments.

_Closed-minded asshole._

The lock Neil had used was intricate enough that Dillan couldn’t hack it immediately to release his wrists.   He couldn’t believe his father was stupid enough to actually leave him with his omni-tool.  No wonder his Alliance career hadn’t taken off, he was a useless, moronic bastard.

“I know you wanted to get out of the graduation ceremony, but this seems a bit fucking extreme.” Greg moved into the room and knelt next to him to begin working on releasing him. “Can we kill him now?  Fucking asshole. How dare he call himself your father?”

“No, we can’t.”

“Why?” Greg asked petulantly. 

“I have plans.”

“Shit plans.”

“Well, yeah, but they’re still plans.” Dillan let his best friend heft him up to his feet.  He took a few minutes to stretch out his arms and legs. “We’ll get him back for _everything._ ”

Once Greg sprung Dillan from _prison_ , he decided to head to his favourite shooting range.  He retrieved his sniper rifle from one of the weapon’s lockers then took aim.  Firing round after round, he ignored the door opening behind him since it was likely Greg bringing breakfast.

“Security cameras in and around your father’s temporary quarters captured something rather disturbing in the very early hours of the morning,” Hackett spoke quietly.  “You weren’t conscious when he dragged you inside.”

Dillan stubbornly refused to acknowledge him.  He didn’t want pity and started to lift up the rifle in his arms only to stop when a hand stopped him.  “I’m more then capable of rescuing myself as you can clearly see.  I don’t need jackshit from anyone, particularly…”

“Don’t.” Hackett’s hand squeezed gently, pulling him further away from the firing lane. “You can save the bluster for people like Adam and Neil.”

“You can kiss my fine ass.” Dillan grinned wickedly at the admiral though he knew there was an edge to the smile.  “You can lick it while you’re at it.”

“Did he hurt you?” Hackett ignored his response.”

“Neil Shepard…”

“Are _you_ hurt, Dillan?”

Dillan blinked at the ferocity in Hackett’s question.  _The fuck?_ “You’re actually not shitting me right now.  Why the hell are you worried about a smug punk like me?”

“This might come as a surprise to you, but not everyone in dress blues is a cold-hearted bastard.”  Hackett lifted the rifle away from Dillan and secured it into the nearby locker. “Have breakfast with me?  Markos might join us.”

“Unless it’s smeared over your dicks, thanks, but no thanks.”

He had never let anyone get close enough to offer emotional support, not after his mother had all but handed him over to Jamieson.  She’d hoped to ‘make up for Neil,’ instead it put a huge gulf between him and all of the parental units in his life.  Greg was the only person who saw him in his darker moments.

Besides all of the family shit, Dillan was _so_ close to his dream of getting out from under the Shepard mantle that he could taste it.  In a few days, he would be Santa Cruz getting his gear and schedule while Greg sorted out their property in Maui. They’d had enough credits from all their dealings thus far to buy a piece of land in a private section of the island.

It came with a house on the beach which was large enough to provide them with several rooms, along with an office.  Greg would spend a few weeks getting their new information business up on it’s feet.  They needed the time to get security measures in place.  If anyone ever managed to track them down to Maui, they wanted to have things set up for protection.

He turned his attention back to the admiral.  “I better head home to get ready for graduation.  Wouldn’t want to be late for such a momentous occasion, would I?”

“Markos and I would…”

“Come to the graduation, you’ll enjoy the show.” Dillan had _big_ plans for the ceremony, one last chance to snub his nose at his father.  

“Dillan?”

He glanced up at Hackett to find the man with an intriguing sparkle in his eyes.  “What?”

“If I find any of the information you’ve been selling has led to an Alliance death, I will shut your ass down.  Is that understood?” Hackett took a few steps closer until he was basically whispering into Dillan’s ear, sending an electric shock down his spine and straight to his damn dick.  “And if you happen to be interested in expanding your business to selling information back to the Alliance about mercenary groups, other traders and Cerberus.  I’m sure we could work out a deal to satisfy all parties involved.”

Dillan used all of the self-control he’d learned living with Neil Shepard to keep his mouth from dropping open like a damn fool.  “As long as the deal involves your naked body, I’m in.”

“Smug little shit.”

“There isn’t a damn thing little about what is in my jeans, Admiral.”

“It isn’t nine inches though, son, is it?” Hackett winked at him then strode out of the room.

_“Bastard.”_

* * *

 

**_Preview of the next chapter:_ **

“Is he…” Becker stammered to a halt, speechless for the first time that Hackett could recall ever seeing the man.  They both found it hard to look away from the stage where the graduates were receiving their accolades. “He actually wore a damn skirt.”

“I think it’s a kilt, Markos,” Hackett remarked completely unhelpfully.

“Three hundred credits says the punk flashes the entire audience.” Becker leaned in to whisper to him. “No way he’s wearing anything under that thing.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bioware owns all. Sadly.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Beta:CelticGrace & MissMeggo

Attending the academy graduation seemed a monumental waste of time to Hackett—a sentiment which Becker likely readily reciprocated. Yet both men found themselves sitting in a sectioned of VIP area, anxiously waiting to see what Dillan had planned.  The eighteen year old had certainly surprised them in recent days.

They wouldn’t indulge Dillan’s fantasies—not yet anyway.  Neither man intended on playing with a teenager.  It was better to wait a few years, allow him to mature a little, or hopefully, a lot.  It remained to be seen how the young man in question would handle a temporary denial.

_Not well._

Smug little punk that he was.

“What do you think he’s planning?” Becker leaned closer to mutter gruffly to Hackett.

“I shudder to think what his devious mind has put together.”  Hackett glanced casually around the room.  He finally spotted Dillan amongst a large group of graduates. “He’s a damn menace.”

“He’s intelligent.”

“An intelligent menace.”

“And what were we twenty years ago, eh?”

“Intelligent menaces who were driven toward a goal.”

“He might have different goals, but I doubt he’s any less driven.”  Becker clenched his jaw angrily when he caught sight of something.  “Thought we told that bastard to stay the hell away from his son?”

Hackett followed his friend’s gaze across the room to where Neil Shepard was leaning against a wall at the rear of the hall.  HE appeared to be in a heated argument with his ex-wife and her current husband.  He frowned in concern as the graduates began making their lone walks up to receive their diplomas.

“Holy shit.” Becker’s eyes were riveted to the middle of the row of students. “Steven.”

“Control yourself.”

“Have you actually looked at him?”

_Holy shit._

Dillan sauntered up the steps onto the stage, wearing nothing but a kilt, combat boots and a smirk.  He looked tall, lithe and far too amused with himself.  He caught Hackett’s attention and winked at him.

“Stop him,” Becker commanded sharply.

“Dillan?”

“A bloody Krogan charge wouldn’t stop him.”  Backer pointed to where Hackett could see Neil storming through the crowd.  “We…”

His friend’s voice trailed off while they watched in awe as Jamieson yanked Neil up by the neck to drag him from the room.  They quickly made their way out of the packed row of VIPs to follow the two men into a private room off the main hall.  Hannah had left, likely to find the MPs to handle Neil. 

“I told you never to touch him again. What the hell did you think you were going to do when you got to him?” Adam slammed his fist into Neil’s jaw. “And don’t think I don’t know about you trying to keep him locked up.”

“What do you care? You know he’s a worthless, piece of shit. If he at least joined the Alliance, I’d knock some sense into his empty head in boot camp.”  Neil spat blood on the ground and struggled to get back up on his feet. He rubbed his jaw while glaring at the three officers in the room with him. “The kid’s nothing but a criminal in the making.  I’m sure the bitch cheated on him, no way I was part of making something that useless.”

“That young man is worth ten of you.”  Jamieson surprised Hackett with is vehement defence of DIllan. He’d always though the major didn’t care for his step-son at all.  “I might not understand him or his surfing or whatever else it is that he does, but he’s damn smart and talented.  He’ll be a better man than you could ever be.  And he’ll do it without any help from you or me.  I’ve been too damn stubborn, and you’re too much of a bullying asshole to be useful to anyone.  I’d say if anyone’s a disappoint, it’s not him.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.”  Dillan’s kilt brushed against Hackett when he strolled into the room.  “Did you have an accident in training?”

“What the hell are you on about?” Jamieson brought an arm up to block Neil from moving forward while frowning at his step-son.

“Why else would you…”

“I don’t like your piss-poor attitude and what always seems like a lack of motivation.”  Jamieson caught Neil by the shirt to toss him from the room into the arms of two MPs who were waiting with Hannah.   He turned back to Dillan who looked more bewildered by the minute.  “I care about you a great deal, almost as much as I love your mother.”

“Like a son.” Dillan tried to sound casual and failed miserably.  “I…am…well…I’m not fucking emotionally mature enough to handle this shit.”

“How shocking.” Jamieson retorted before dragging the teen into a crushing hug. “Don’t tell your mother. She’ll get all weepy.”

“ _Mom.”_ Dillan gave his step-father a wicked grin before darting away to find Hannah.

“Little shit.” He turned toward Hackett and Becker, his smile turning into a menacing glower. “So...what are you two doing here?”

“Adam.”

“No, _Steven,_ you leave him alone for a while.  I know he’s chasing after you too.  But he’ll be in Santa Cruz by the end of the week.  He’s too damn young to get into it with you grizzly bastards.” Jamieson ignored the exasperated huff from just outside of the room from Dillan who’d clearly been eavesdropping.  

“Did you give Quinn this charming chat?” Hackett found the entire thing highly amusing.

“Have you seen him lately?” Jamieson shot back.

Dillan leaned his head into the room. “Don’t cock-block me, damn Alliance jackass.  You already ruined my _big_ surprise.”

“Which was?” Becker ignored the still glowering Jamieson.

He ran his finger along the waist of his kilt while smirking at the two admirals. “I planned on a little…show and tell.”

“You lift that damn skirt and I’ll…”

“It’s a kilt, not a skirt.” Dillan grinned unrepentantly at his step-father. “They wouldn’t mind.”

“They’ll mind my fist real damn quick if they don’t stop staring at you like that,” Jamieson snapped.

“But I like the way they stare.”

“Of course you do.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Style Reference: Dillan: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/118276893416


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bioware owns all. Sadly.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Beta:CelticGrace & MissMeggo

Standing in the middle of his room, Dillan spun slowly around to take in the empty walls, shelves and desk.  His stuff had already been shipped off, part to the small compound on Maui and the rest to Santa Cruz.  It wouldn’t do for him to have nothing with the surf team.  They needed to make it look as if it was all he had. 

The empty room seemed to oddly match the feeling Dillan had about leaving Arcturus, his mother and the Alliance behind—finally.  Jamieson’s intervention with his father hadn’t changed his mind about leaving.  It had left him with a sense of connection to the man.  It had also made him wonder if there was more than met the eye about the interactions between his mother, father and step-father. 

“Will this make you happy, sweetheart?” His mom placed a hand hesitantly on his shoulder while motioning to the bag at his feet which held his surf gear. “Will surfing and life away from Arcturus make you happy?”

Dillan swallowed down the sarcastic response which her question deserved.  “I’ll be happy.”

“I’m so sorry, honey. So very sorry.”

“For what?” Dillan blinked at his now openly weeping mother in shock.  _The fuck?_ “I don’t do tears, Mom. You know that.”

“I’m so sorry I left you with that horrible man.  I should’ve saved you sooner.  Adam told me to fight the custody agreement.  He told me to tell the family court what Neil did to me and to you.”  Hannah swiped at the tears on her face. “I was afraid of what it would do to me career.  And I selfishly thought maybe he’d be better without me.”

“Can we just not do this shit?” Dillan had zero interest in opening this particular emotional Pandora ’s Box. “It’s fine.  I’m fine.”

“No, son…”

“Mom.” He reached down to very gently lift her hand away from his arm. “I always knew you loved me.  And I was prepared to sacrifice to keep you safe.”

“You were too young to have that weight on your shoulders.” Hannah’s face held a wealth of pain that he turned away from.

“Yes, I was.  And now we’re all stuck with the results.” Dillan lifted the one bag left and strode down the hallway toward the front door.  He found his step-father blocking the entrance with a grim smile on his face. “Not you too. You sob on me and I’ll knee you in the groin.”

“Bold as ever.” Jamieson laid a firm hand on Dillan’s shoulder and held his gaze. “You find yourself in trouble or needing advice; I’ll be here—always.  No judgement, no lectures.  I might not care for the nature of some of your business ventures, but I won’t ever turn my back on you.”

“Right…” Dillan didn’t believe for a second that the man wouldn’t read him the riot act at a moment’s notice. “Why would you do shit like that?”

‘It’s what father’s do for their sons.” His step-father’s response left DIllan more befuddled than he’d been with his mother.  “Don’t think too hard about it, you might break something.”

“I don’t like you.”

“And?” Jamieson shrugged indifferently.  “You’re a prat with a bad attitude.  I’ll still be there for you.”

“Why?”

“You’re the only son I have.”

“Stuck with me then?”

“No. Proud to claim.” Jamieson’s other arm came up to drag Dillan forcibly into a hug. “Just— _try—_ not to get yourself tossed in the brig, alright?”

* * *

 

_From: Steven Hackett_

_To: Markos Becker_

_Subj: Kilts._

_I found a kilt on my bed._

_No note, nothing.  Just a damn kilt._

_And then Hannah informs me that her son decided to leave a few days early so he’s already off Arcturus._

_I never know what to think about the punk._

_Steven_

* * *

 

_From: Markos Becker_

_To: Steven Hackett_

_Subj: re: Kilts._

_Should I feel left out?_

_He didn’t bother breaking into my temporary quarters._

_Care to model the punk’s kilt for me?_

_On a side note, any new on my reassignment?  I’m getting tired of Arcturus._

_Markos_


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bioware owns all. Sadly.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Beta:CelticGrace & MissMeggo

_Over four years later…_

“I don’t like this.” Greg spun himself slowly around in his desk chair. “It’s bad news.”

Dillan ran his fingers roughly through his hair which he’d been growing out.  His mother had threatened to take scissors to it the last time she saw him.   “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Remember Elysium?”

“What? You gotta admit that was badass how we totally saved an entire colony.” Dillan smirked at the groan from Greg. “Okay fine, I snuck into Hackett’s quarters and gave him some data on the mercenaries’ movements so he could be all ‘manly’ and save the fucking day.”

“I thought the whole point of our little business was to fuck the Alliance?” Greg dodged the datapad Dillan threw at him.

“No, I want to screw my father over.  The Alliance keeps getting caught in the crosshairs.” He scratched absently at the stubble on his jaw. “I mean, it’s not like we’re even giving them all that much.  It’s just a schedule for a few cruisers for the next few months.”

* * *

 

_From: Dillan Shepard_

_To: Steven Hackett; Markos Becker_

_Subj: Akuze._

_I have information that might help you determine who caused the massacre of your marines on Akuze._

_Meet me in Maui._

_Dillan_

* * *

 

Neither Hackett nor Becker had seen Dillan since his graduation.  He’d stayed focused on his legal and _illegal_ work, ignoring everyone else.  Hackett knew the punk had been in contact with his mother a few times, but that was it.

“So what do you think the little shit has for us this time?” Becker brought Hackett out of his thoughts of that damn kilt.

“I shudder to think.”

The two admirals had been busy since Elysium.  It had been good for both their careers to be the ones responsible for turning the tide against the mercenary invasion on the colony.  They’d been given commands of their own fleets.  Good for their careers, not so good for maintaining the relationship that had developed between them. 

“Miss me?” Becker caught the edge of Hackett’s sleeve to drag him over. “I thought we promised each other at least one visit every six months.”

“I saw you last month.”

“Seems longer.” Becker stepped away when his XO came over the comm to inform him that the ship had landed at the Maui dock. “Let’s go see our punk.”

“Our punk?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t want him to be ours.  You’ve still got the kilt he left for you.” Becker strode out of the room, leaving Hackett to catch up with him.  “He’s not eighteen anymore.”

Becker’s words came back to him ten minutes later when they spotted Dillan heading up the beach towards them.  He stuck his surf board into the sand and jogged across the sand.  He stopped a few feet away with water dripping from his body onto the pavement underneath.

He looked like a damn wet dream.

In the past few years, Dillan had clearly grown a few more inches in height and muscled up a little more.  His body looked like it had been sculpted out of marble though his skin was a beautiful tan color from so much time in the sun.  The two rings through his nipples glinted in the sun with drops of water on them.  Dillan’s slicked back hair appeared several inches long than the last time they saw him.

“Admirals.” His voice still sounded like chocolate coated sin. “Been a long time.”

“What can we do for you?” Hackett struggled to keep his gaze focused on Dillan’s face and _not_ his barely clothed body.

“Oh, _Steven_ , you can do so many, many things to me.” Dillan peeked through long eyelashes at him.  He toyed with one of his piercings. “I have a beach house _all_ to myself.”

Becker cleared his throat after a moment and Hackett realized he’d been stunned into silence for a several minutes. “Tell us about Akuze.”

The impact of that one word was obvious and immediate.  Dillan’s hand fell away from his chest.  His eyes went from sparkling to closed off.  He shivered when the breeze picked up off the ocean.  Hackett exchanged a concerned look with Becker.

“Not here.” Dillan shook his head then ran back to retrieve his surfboard and a small duffle bag.  “Follow me.”

They followed him down a boardwalk to a nearby skycar. Dillan hopped in after towelling off then pulling on a t-shirt and sneakers.  He glanced at the two men expectantly until they joined him.  Hackett expected him to drive straight to his little compound; instead he took them to a secluded spot outside of main part of town to a cliff which overlooked the pristine beach below.

“He seems _bothered._ ” Becker commented absently when Dillan stepped out of the vehicle without them.  “And serious.”

“It’s disorienting,” Hackett agreed.  He followed out and they both leaned against the skycar to watch Dillan pace in front of them. “So?”

“I fucked up.” Dillan dragged his fingers roughly through his still damp hair. “I…we had a new client buying information from us for the last few years.  They seemed harmless enough, never wanted anything too deep or important.  No red flags.”

“Until?” Hackett prompted as Dillan fell uncharacteristically silent. 

He yanked on his hair before finally letting his arm drop to his side. “What do you know about Cerberus?”

“Cerberus?” Hackett stood up straighter. “You have my attention.”

“Finally.” Dillan gave a half-hearted smirk. “I didn’t know, I swear to fucking god, I had no fucking clue what the bastards were planning to do with the information I gave them.”

“Just spit it out.” Becker interrupted the punk’s self-recriminations to focus him.

“They wanted the flight paths of several Alliance cruisers.  I figured they were smuggling shit and wanted to keep off the Alliance radar.  It wouldn’t be the first time.  What was the harm in it? No lives…” Dillan choked on the words and spun away from them.  His fists clenched at his sides as he seemed to struggle to get his emotions under control. “They…we were stupid. We were arrogant and got played. They weren’t smuggle jack shit.  It was about the marines. I think Cerberus laid a trap for the marine unit to capture them.”

“To what end?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged helplessly. He darted back over to the vehicle to retrieve a datachip from his bag which he tossed to Hackett.  “They’ve done a bunch of really shady research projects in the past.  This is all Greg and I’ve been able to uncover. I…”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is,” Dillan snapped at him. “I’ve been so fucking careful.”

“What happened to not giving a shit about the Alliance?” Becker asked. 

“Markos.” Hackett didn’t think it was wise to poke at the obviously distressed young man.

“What? It’s a legitimate question.  He spent how long spouting off that he doesn’t give a shit about anyone in a uniform.” Becker gave Hackett a look that suggested he was posing the question for a reason. “Well?”

“I don’t give a shit about marines.” Dillan resumed his pacing in front of them. “I’m not my father though. I don’t want blood on my fucking hands.”

“It _wasn’t_ your fault, Dillan. Everyone makes mistakes.” Hackett didn’t want the young man going off on a tail-spin.  “The intel you’ve given us on Cerberus more than makes up for your mistake.”

“Don’t blow smoke up my ass.” Dillan waved off Hackett’s statement.  He shook his head for a moment then turned a devilish grin toward the admiral. “Though I wouldn’t mind you blowing me.”

“There’s the perverse punk that we’ve come to know.” Becker pushed himself up and moved over to Dillan.  He snaked his hand underneath his shirt to hook one of the nipple rings with his finger.  He used it to guide Dillan over to where Hackett stood so they were sandwiching him between them.  “Akuze was not your fault.  They’d have gotten what they needed from someone, even if it wasn’t you.”

“But I…”

“You’ve been a very, _very_ naughty boy, haven’t you? Hmm?” Hackett shifted back on the skycar’s hood to allow his legs to widen so Becker could press Dillan closer.  He lifted the punk’s shirt up to bite down on the tanned skin of his back. “We should punish you.”

* * *

 

**_Preview of upcoming chapter:_ **

“Do you want another? Ask nicely.”

Dillan thought very seriously about telling Becker to shove it up his ass, but then the evil bastard flicked one of his nipple rings.  It sent a pleasant shiver across his body and made him reconsider. “Fuck…”

“That isn’t asking _nicely.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dillan's current hair: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/119953226811


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bioware owns all. Sadly.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Beta:CelticGrace & MissMeggo

_“Do you want another? Ask nicely.”_

_Dillan thought very seriously about telling Becker to shove it up his ass, but then the evil bastard flicked one of his nipple rings.  It sent a pleasant shiver across his body and made him reconsider. “Fuck…”_

_“That isn’t asking_ _nicely.  Hackett growled in Dillan’s ear, making him even harder._

_The two men worked in tandem to drive Dillan up the wall.  He wasn’t even sure whose fingers and tongue were where.  There were at least three fingers stretching him while a tongue teased one of his nipples, playing with his piercing.   He couldn’t contain himself when one of their mouths engulfed his shaft._

“Enjoying your dream?”

DIllan shot up in bed with a moan which morphed into a disappointed groan.  He reached over to find the weapon usually hidden under his spare pillow was gone. _Shit._ He flipped the light on, blinking in the suddenly brilliantly lit room until his intruder—intruders—came into view. “Who the fuck are you?”

“You should _always_ know who you’re double-crossing, Shepard.  You can’t assess the danger if you don’t know who might come after you.”  The handsome, well-dressed man who was reclining casually on the chair across from the bed paused to light his cigarette before glancing over at the mountain of a bodyguard who filled the entire bedroom doorframe.  “You gave the Alliance information on one of my projects.”

“Did I?” Dillan stretched his legs out under the sheet, grimacing when the fabric pulled at the sticky mess around his groin from his _oh-so-wonderful_ dream. “Are you sure? It could’ve been someone else.”

“Utterly confident.”

“Hmm,” Dillan shrugged indifferently.  “It could simply be karmic retribution for being a very, very naughty boy.  The universe gave you a spanking.  Be a good boy and say thank you, may I have another.”

“Do you know who I am?” The man spoke over what Dillan thought was an amused snort from the massive guard in the doorway. “Do you?”

“Not a clue.” DIllan ran his fingers through his sleep-mussed, slightly sweaty hair. “A stripper? I could use another show since you interrupted my dream.”

“I’m the Illusive Man.”

Dillan couldn’t help his brief burst of laughter. “Yet you seem surprisingly easy to spot.  Can I call you Illy?  I’m going to call you Illy.”

Mr tall, massive and silent snorted for a second time.  He stepped forward to stand behind his boss.  Dillan’s spent dick gave a twitch of interest as he got a better look at the man.  He was truly massive in every sense of the word.  He must’ve been closet to six feet six inches or more, well-muscled.  His dark eyes matched the jet-black tone of the stubble on his cheeks and on his shaved head.  It stood out against the almost golden color of his skin.

He tried to think about Jamieson in a pink leopard print leotard to distract the one-track direction of his mind.  It didn’t work all that well.  He shifted one of his pillows to hide his developing _problem._

“Look, if you’re going to have that wet dream over there kill me. Could I get dressed first? My mother doesn’t need to see my dead body with dried jizz all over it.” Dillan gestured absently toward his lap while smirking at the still silent man standing behind the head of Cerberus. “Or if you’re _not_ going to off me, why don’t you get to the fucking point?”

“Avery has worked with me for almost ten years.  I’ve never seen him lose his composure before now.” The Illusive Man stared at his still chuckling guard in surprise.  He turned hard blue eyes back toward Dillan. “I will ignore your crude, unnecessary comments.”

“Good of you,” Dillan remarked quietly.

“I have a proposition for you.”

“I don’t come cheap, and I don’t fuck anyone for credits.” Dillan winked at _Avery_. “Though I might pay to screw him.”

“Could you focus for one second before I change my mind and let him shoot you?” The Illusive Man angrily flicked his cigarette ashes to the floor.  He chose to disregard Dillan’s ‘no’ and get to his offer. “Cerberus could use your abilities.”

“Which ones?”

“I could use information on the anything related to the Terminus Systems, and the Alliance as well.  I’d also be interested in sending false trails back to the Alliance.” The cold blue eyes turned shrewd after a month of thought. “I’ll pay you twice your normal fee for information.  I’ll give you legitimate data to forward to your admirals on the movements of my operatives.  Avery will coordinate everything with you.”

“Everything?” Dillan grinned at the man.  “Will he be naked while he does it? It would improve the odds of my saying yes.”

“Is there anything that you take seriously?” Avery asked curiously.  The man’s voice was deep and silky.  It fit his silent, yet aggressive vibe perfectly. “I won’t be naked.”

“Pity.” Dillan flung the sheet away from him. He got to his feet and stretched casually as if he weren’t naked in front of two strangers. “I’m going to shower, unless you want to lick me clean. No? I’m going to shower.  I’m going to be in there a while.  You should leave.”

“Why?”

“Do you really want to listen to me wanking in the bath?” Dillan stretched once again, languidly moving his muscles to give the two men a real show. “Oh? Are you still here?”

“I’m waiting for an answer. I don’t _enjoy_ waiting.” The cold blue eyes never left Dillan’s face which he felt was rather impressive control.

“Fine.” Dillan toyed with one of his piercings for a moment. “You try to hurt Greg or screw me around and the deal is off.”

“Is that a threat?”

He flicked the jewellery on his chest absently.  “I’ll put a bullet between your legs if you touch a hair on my best friend’s head.”

“Between his legs?”

“He’ll not only be illusive, but a dickless wonder.” Dillan strolled out of the room into his bathroom.  He didn’t bother locking the door, took a shuddering deep breath, and then stepped into the shower.  He started to duck his head onto the warm water, but stopped when he realized he wasn’t alone. “I don’t do free shows.”

“Your friend is fine, unconscious but unhurt.” Avery leaned against the sink to watch Dillan as he showered. “The security around this place needs updated.”

“Oh?” Dillan blinked shampoo out of his eyes. “Are you seriously standing in my fucking bathroom, watching me shower and giving me advice on how to keep my beach compound secure?”

“Yes.”

“So _Avery.”_

“Avery Todd, former Alliance special ops team leader and current head of security with Cereberus.” Avery gave a mock bow.

“Former?”

“They didn’t like my attitude and my tendency to beat my ignorant, commanding officers into a bloody pulp.” He flexed his muscles and smirked at Dillan. “I wouldn’t conform.”

“And Mr. Illy tamed the savage beast within and you’re all better now?” Dillan rolled his eyes at him.  He froze when a hand shot out to grab him by the throat. “Easy, big guy.”

“I’m not a beast and I’m certainly not tame.” His fingers dug into Dillan’s skin though not to the point of breaking it. “Careful who you play with, not everyone follows the rules.”

“I do enjoy a man with a strong grip, but not around my throat, or not _just_ around my throat.” Dillan smirked when Avery released him.  He control his urge massage his neck and returned to showering as if nothing had happened. “You can leave.”

“I like the view.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Avery Todd: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/121108749561/musclegazer-aron-abikzer-by-michael-stokes


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sad chapter is very sad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bioware owns all. Sadly.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Beta:CelticGrace & MissMeggo

After berating Dillan for his obvious lapse in sanity, Greg had immediately begun hunting for a new location.  They’d settled on a more secure bungalow in a gated community outside of San Diego.  It was more populated and would hopefully allow them to blend in more easily.  Cerberus might also be more hesitant to show their faces with so many witnesses.

Standing outside of their new home, Dillan began playing with a cue stick they’d found in a closet while cleaning out the place.  He soon had it flipping around his body in a fluid dance.  It glided across his bare chest then back with ease.  He took a casual sip of beer then launched the pole into the air only to have it snatched away before he could catch it.

“Do you spend your whole life playing with your fucking stick?” Avery Todd embedded the pole into the ground a good foot or more. “You made a deal.”

“Did I? Was it in writing?” Dillan smirked at the Cerberus operative while trying to keep at least a semblance of safe distance between them. “I never signed a damn thing.  Verbal deals are such pesky things to remember.”

“You got a death wish?”

“Can blue balls kill you? I haven’t gotten laid in ages.” Dillan reached down to cup himself.  He grinned when Avery’s eyes followed the motion. “See something you like?”

“You do have a death wish.  My boss likes results.  I suggest you give them to him.” Todd caught up the cue stick again.  He snapped it in a few pieces, tossing the remains at Dillan.  “He feels you need motivation.”

“You sound like my mother.” Dillan brushed the splinters off his chest and out of his hair. “My what big muscles you have, _mommy_.”

“The Illusive Man decided that we should provide you with the appropriate motivation.” Todd hesitated briefly with an almost apologetic reluctance in his voice.  “Do not force me to do so again.”

“Motivation…”

The joke died on his lips in an instant as his brain caught up to the undertone of the conversation.  Something in the Cerberus operative’s eyes chilled him to the bone.  Dillan ran at full speed toward the bungalow only to be yanked to a stop by Todd.

“You’re in over your head, surfer boy.  I like you.  I tried to suggest a better target to provide motivation.  The Illusive Man dislikes suggestions.  Don’t make me come out here again.  I’m allergic to guilt.” He shoved Dillan away then stalked off without another word.

Stumbling towards the stares, Dillan tripped over his own feet multiple times.  The security alarms blared like fucking sirens inside the bungalow.  He tore through the living room, knocking over as yet unpacked boxes.  He found his motivation stretched out on the bathroom floor, head pressed into the toilet.

“No, no, no.” Dillan dropped to his knees with a painful thud.  He reached out trembling hands to ease Greg down to the tiled floor.  “No, no, no. Not like this.”

He sat clutching at the lifeless body for hours.   His voice had gone scratchy and hoarse from repeatedly screaming out his rage.  He couldn’t bring himself to move. 

_Who could he call for help now?_

“Dillan?”

Dillan turned painfully dry eyes toward his step-father.  He thought for a moment that he might be hallucinating. “How…”

“An old friend from back in the first contact war sent me a message. He thought he was being all clever and anonymous like, but I’d know his bad attitude anywhere.  He said you were in trouble, needed some help—needed family.” Jamieson crouched down beside him.  “Are you hurt?”

“Define hurt.”

“Oh, son.” He reached out and deftly untangled Dillan’s arms from around the body.  “Several of the marines in my unit are here.  They’re going to take Greg, make sure he’s taken care of.  Surveillance video from across the street caught the men who did this, but not their faces.  We’ll inform his parents.”

“I…”

Using his superior bulk, Jamieson lifted Dillan up and forced him out of the bathroom into a bedroom down the hall.   His step-father wrapped his arms around him from behind when Dillan tried to leave the room.  He held his step-son tightly, despite his struggling and screaming.

“I have to…I need.”

“For once in your damn life, Dillan, why don’t you realize you _need_ family.” Jamieson kept his arms pinned to his sides. “I’m here to help, not judge. Let me _help_ you with this, please. I don’t want to find you dead next.”

He struggled briefly before collapsing into a hug from his step-father for the first time in his life. “Remember when you said my cockiness and disregard for others would get me in trouble?”

“Remember when? I think I said it to you every day for two years.”

With a wry chuckle, Dillan sank down on the floor with his head resting against the wall.  He ran his fingers roughly through his hair, glancing up when Jamieson nudged his leg.   This whole sharing thing was new to him and he wasn’t quite sure where to start.

“I wanted my father to pay for being the bastard that he is.” Dillan decided it might be wise to start at the very beginning. “We sold information…”

“I know.”

“What?”

“You’re smart boys, Dillan, but we know from the very beginning.”

“What a little fool I am,” he chuckled bitterly.

“Dillan.”

“Why would Avery Todd risk angering the Illusive Man to give you a heads up?” Dillan asked after he’d filled Jamieson in on everything that had happened. “What’s his game?”

“Maybe we don’t need to know, eh?”

“Sir? The body’s been removed to the ship for transport to Arcturus.  We’re ready to go on your order.” A young looking marine stepped into the room after knocking on the door.

“Come home, please?”

Dillan shook his head and impatiently pushed off the hand Jamieson had placed on his shoulder. “I have shit to do.”

“Dillan…”

“And Jamieson? Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dillan's moves at the beginning: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/122347243596/missmeggo929-awesomethingsandsuch


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bioware owns all. Sadly.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Beta:CelticGrace & MissMeggo

Jamieson had done a lot of things over the years for his wife and step-son.   He loved both of them though Dillan would likely never admit to any similar sentiments.  The kid didn’t like talking, thinking or having feelings.  It was what worried him the most about Greg’s murder—how would Dillan handle it?

Truth be told, Dillan couldn’t handle it.  The boy seemed dead-set on a suicide mission to destroy the Illusive Man or himself.  Odds certainly appeared to be against him succeeding.  Jamieson had _no_ intentions of letting him get himself killed.

 “Is the Admiral in?” Jamieson waited patiently while the young yeoman seated at the desk in front of Hackett’s office checked if the man had time for him.  _He didn’t, apparently._  

Deciding it didn’t matter; Jamieson ignored the protests from the yeoman and strode purposefully across the room into Hackett’s office.  He found the admiral in the middle of a vid-call.   He reached across the desk to hit a few buttons, disconnecting the call.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t have your ass thrown into the brig.” Hackett kept a tight rein on his temper which impressed Jamieson. “Well? I’m waiting.”

“Dillan.”

Hackett deflated slightly, waving toward the chair across his desk, he took his seat with a tired groan. “What now?”

“Kid’s messed up.”

“And?”

“Don’t give me that. I know you care about him.” Jamieson pinned him with a glare. “You and Becker, you both want him.  He’s drowning in this shit and I can’t help him.”

“And?”

Jamieson was up out of his chair, leaning across the desk with his hand gripping Hackett by his uniform to yank him out of his seat before either of them realized what was happening. “I won’t lose him, Steven.  And you’re the best chance I have of pulling him back.  So stop pretending like you don’t give a damn when we both know you do.”

Hackett pinched the bridge of his nose once Jamieson had released him. “I could strip your rank from you for that.”

_The things he did for his family._

“Go right ahead,” he shrugged indifferently.  “Dillan deserves to have someone in his corner with him.”

“Where is he?”

* * *

 

_From: Avery Todd_

_To: Dillan Shepard_

_Subj: Move your ass._

_Getting complacent._

_We spotted you yesterday._

_Move your stupid ass.  I’d really prefer not to kill you._

_And stop trying to find my boss._

_Fucking idiot._

_Avery_

* * *

 

Jamieson would kill them.  It was the first thought that came to Hackett’s mind while he and Becker carried Dillan into their shuttle.  They’d found him with a bullet wound to his thigh in an alley in Santa Cruz.  

_Troublesome punk._

“Little to the left.” Dillan smirked at Hackett while he applied medi-gel to the wound and then started to wrap bandages around it.  “Higher, and a little to the left.”

Hackett finished with dressing his injuries and sat back on his heels, frowning up at the strained smile on younger man’s face.  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

He shrugged.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Hackett anticipated the second shrug and moved on to a different tactic. “I’ve lost men in…”

“Shut the fuck up.” Dillan snapped at him, shocking both admirals. “Just. Shut. It.  Where the hell do you Alliance bastards get off it, eh? I didn’t ask for some damn therapy session. I’m _fine.”_

Exchanging a glance with Becker, Hackett decided that perhaps a firmer hand might be required to deal with the multiple issues facing them.  He leaned forward, careful of the injury, to plant a firm hand on Dillan’s throat while capturing his wrists with his other hand.   It’s not much of a surprise when Dillan’s eyes darken and his breathing speeds up slightly.

“Kinky.”

Hackett refused to let the conversation be derailed completely. “You lost your best friend.”

Dillan’s mouth snapped shut and he stubbornly attempted to turn his ahead away.  

Firming his grip on him, Hackett forced his gaze forward.  He held him there and told him about the men he’d lost during the first contact war.  Dillan struggled to look away, but Hackett refused to let him take the easy way out.  He needed to face this.

“Screw you.” Dillan spat at him angrily. “And not in the fun way I’d planned.”

“We’ll get to that eventually.” Becker moved closer and with his larger body, forced Dillan into a hug.  Hackett came up behind to wrap his own arms around him from behind. “Nothing wrong with grieving.”

“I don’t need your help, unless it involves mouths on my dick. I’m okay with sexual healing.” Dillan attempted to struggle, but they refused to let him up. “I don’t…”

“We get it.  You’re a tough little shit.  You don’t need anyone or anything.” Becker met Hackett’s eyes over Dillan’s head. “Do you want to know what I think?  I think you’re a lonely fucking punk who’s so lost that he has no idea what to do next. Getting your punk ass killed won’t bring back Greg.”

“Shut the hell up.” Dillan closed his eyes shut tightly to avoid them and likely to hide the tears Hackett could see escaping. “Fuck you. I can handle this myself.”

“Yeah, we know.” Hackett ran his fingers along Dillan’s spine before resting them firmly on the back of his neck. “I’m confident you could make your way to the Illusive Man and take him out, but not without getting yourself killed in the process.  I’m sure you can bury all the pain of never having anyone to lean on except for Greg.  He’s the one person you could always count on, right?  And you feel like you got him killed.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.  I’m right.” Hackett squeezed his neck gently, noting with interest how Dillan seemed to relax into the touch.  “You can’t take on Cerberus by yourself.”

“I don’t need…”

“You don’t know what the hell you need.” Becker cut him off, silencing him with an impatient kiss. “We’re not letting you go, lad.  Get used to having someone else to count on.”

“No.” Dillan attempted to jerk away from them.

“ _Stop.”_ Hackett tightened his hold on his neck, massing the tense muscles and smiled knowingly at Becker when Dillan went still then almost limp between them. “Good lad. That’s it; let someone else take the weight of it all for a bit, eh? We’re not going anywhere.”

“Still hate you.”

“No, no I think you hate the idea that you might need someone.” Becker shifted Dillan so he was sitting in his lap.  Hackett eased forward with his hand still soothing him. “We know what you need.”

“So do I.  I need a beer and my balls licked.” Dillan’s retort liked the hard sarcastic edge. “You’re not letting me go, are you?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we finally have actual smut that got a little kinky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bioware owns all. Sadly.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Beta:CelticGrace & MissMeggo

Sulking didn’t quite come a naturally to Dillan a seduction.  He didn’t find it second nature.  It annoyed him really.  He refused to admit to anything even remotely approaching pouting.   Anger, however, was something he felt quite free about expressing.

Alliance bastards.

They’d taken _every_ single bit of information Dillan and Greg had gathered on Cerberus.  They’d used it to bring down the organization.  The Illusive Man currently sat in a sparsely decorated, highly secure room awaiting his trial for crimes against humanity.   A bullet in the head would be more useful for the fucking bastard.

“Your mother…”

Dillan swivelled his head toward the door where Becker was stepping in with Hackett behind him. They’d kept him sequestered on Elysium for the past week, out of the way and ‘out of trouble.’  He decided it was time for them to make the shit worth his while. “Not interested.”

“In your mother?” Becker raised an eyebrow.

“In words.”  Dillan stretched out on the couch, letting his legs fall apart.  He leaned back with one arm behind his head.  His other hand slid down his bare chest which was on display through his unbuttoned shirt.  He grabbed his cock through his shorts, caressing himself while daring the two men with a smirk. “I’m done with listening to hot air from old men who can’t get it up anymore.”

Hackett exchanged a look with Becker and Dillan found his heart starting to beat faster when both strode toward him.  They yanked him up to his feet, crowding him between their bodies.  Hackett pressed against Dillan’s back.  Fingers dug roughly into the tender skin around one of his nipples before idly flicking his nipple rings while Becker teased him by running his palm across his cock.

“Oh, shit.” Dillan tilted his head back with a groan when Becker leaned forward to suck on his adam’s apple while Hackett bit down on the edge of his ear.  “Oh…”

“Shut the hell up, lad.” Becker grabbed Dillan by the hair and yanked his head to the side, forcing his lips against Hackett’s. “Time you learned a few things about _old men.”_

Catching the younger man by the back of the neck, Hackett shoved him down on his knees.  Dillan smirked up at him while his fingers made quick work of lowering his zipper and pushing his trousers down.  He was surprised to find the admirals, both of them actually, had chosen to go commando under their uniforms.  He finally found himself allowed to indulge in what he’d wanted to do for years—suck both of their cocks. 

He moved back and forth between the two older men, licking and sucking to his heart’s content.  He was snapped out of his enjoyment when something pulled on his nipple rings.  It took a moment to realize Hackett had connected the rings by a chain that looked eerily similar to a leash.  He thought about complaining until one hard tug on it sent pleasant shivers of pain through his body straight to his dick.

“You…” Dillan didn’t get to finish his thought as a cock made its way into his mouth again.

They led Dillan over to a nearby table by the chain.  Becker lifted up like he weighed nothing and stretched him out on his back.   Hackett came up on one side of the table, his cock made teasing glances along the cleft of his ass.  Becker brought one leg up for leverage to allow him to lower his own shaft closer to Dillan’s mouth.

Hackett had two slicked fingers up Dillan’s ass while both men toyed with his nipple rings.  The older men leaned across his body to kiss each other.   The sounds they made had Dillan bucking back against the fingers in him even harder.

Hovering on the edge of his first orgasm, Dillan grunted in complaint when the fingers were removed.  He tried to lift his head up only to find Becker’s cock made it impossible.   The frustration evaporated as something much thicker and longer began to slowly press into him.    He hummed around the shaft in his mouth as Hackett eventually filled him completely.

They fucked him hard.  It was _perfect—_ everything Dillan had always thought it could be with them.   Just thinking about how long they’d made him wait had him spurting all over his chest.  The only response was a deep chuckle and then a hand closing around his sensitive softening cock.   A second orgasm was worked out of him before he found himself filled at both ends.

Becker eased carefully back, his fingers gently massaging Dillan’s throat.  “You all right, lad?”

“ _Fucked.”_   Dillan’s breath hitched when Hackett lazily stroked his cock. “Twice not enough?”

“You’ll be more than thoroughly _fucked_ when we’re done with you,” Hackett promised darkly.  He lightly tapped his thumb against the head of Dillan’s cock while Becker began tugging and twisting his nipple rings.  “Are you going to be ours?”

“I’ll…get back to you on…shit.” Dillan hadn’t thought another orgasm possible until they worked it out of him.  The last one leaving him collapsed on the table. “Maybe.”

“Smug shit.” Becker flicked his nipple then helped him sit up.  He seemed to find Dillan’s slight hiss at the pressure on his ass amusing. “You’ll find it hard to think about anything _but_ us.”

“And I’m smug?” Dillan ran his fingers through the sticky mess on his abs.  He idly sucked one of his fingers clean while grinning at the look of lust still flaring in their eyes. “You might be worth my time.”

Hackett dragged him off of the table by the nipples. “Might?”

“ _Might.”_


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bioware owns all. Sadly.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Beta:CelticGrace & MissMeggo

“Talk to them.”

The firm hand on Dillan’s neck squeezed gently then Hackett led Becker from the room.  It left him alone with his mother and step-dad.  _Shit._   He should’ve taken Avery’s  invite to hang out in San Francisco.  He’d said no, realizing the temptation to screw around with the man might be too much to resist.

Why risk the balls he could already lick whenever he wanted for an unknown?

“Dillan?” His mom leaned into Jamieson who had an arm around her. “Greg’s family…”

Dillan snapped up out of his slouch.  “They made their thoughts about me quite clear when I tried to go to his funeral.”

“They’re grieving.”

“And what the hell am I doing?” Dillan seriously reconsidered his rejection of Avery’s offer.  Hackett was so sucking his dick for abandoning him to his obviously emotionally overwrought mother.  “Can we just _not_ do this?”

“You’re doing what you always do—avoiding anything even closely related to emotions.” Jamieson didn’t budge when Dillan shot to his feet.  “Your buddy died.  You both screwed up and you’re too afraid of your emotions to deal with it.”

“Fuck. You.”

“Dillan!” His mother placed a hand on Jamieson’s arm. “We’re here because we love you.  Family is all about being there for each other.”

“Oh yes, of course, what a stupid little shit I am.  You’ve been there for me so often that it’s just such a _novel_ experience for me.” Dillan flung the words at his mother then headed into the kitchen to grab a beer.  He spun around when heard the door open then close to find his mother gone. “Shit.”

“Do you plan on chasing everyone who wants to help you away?” Jamieson moved into the kitchen.

He set his beer down on the counter.  “Yeah, I’ve so been able to count on my family for jack shit for so long.”

His step-dad scrubbed his hand across his face. “I’m here, son.”

“Right,” Dillan shrugged.  “Again I ask.  Is this really necessary?”

“You know, son, I get it.” Jamieson took a step forward and frowned when Dillan stepped back. “I do get it.  You were left to do with your father on your own.”

“What do you want from me?”

Jamieson looked like he wanted to shake Dillan. “We…I don’t want a damn thing from you.  I want to be here for you.”

“For what? I’m fine.”

“Son…”

“I’m not your son.  And I’m really tired of all the supposed _family_ in my life.  You left me with him…none of you have been there for me. And now my friend’s dead, you suddenly think I should trust you?” Dillan couldn’t help but think his sudden teenage angst was years over-due.  “I do fine on my own.”

Jamieson forced Dillan into a hug.  His arms were like iron around him. “You _are_ my son.”

“Look…”

“No, you look, son.  I get it. You’re angry.  You’re an angry punk who’s been let down by everyone.” He kept Dillan in his embrace. “But I don’t give a damn what Neil thinks, or what your mother says.  Greg? He doesn’t have a chance with his family.  But I’ll be damned if I let your fear of family and your mother’s guilt stop us from being what we should’ve been from the beginning.”

“How touching.”

“Stop being a little shit for once.”  Jamieson cuffed him on the back of the head. “Give me a chance.”

“Don’t you mean ‘us’? What about mom?”

“You and your mom have to figure out your own relationship.  I can’t do that for you.” Jamieson finally let Dillan step away from him. “You’re not alone.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”  Dillan rolled his eyes.  “Want a beer?”

“Is that a yes?”

“No, it’s a beer.” Dillan tossed one of the bottles to him. “And a maybe.”

“ _Punk.”_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Story was inspired by this image: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/116557468806/jkvdtsar-james-edward-quaintance-iii
> 
> Face Reference:
> 
> Dillan:http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/83826307340/dillan-shepard 
> 
> Adam Jamieson: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/64895228357
> 
> Hannah Shepard: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/116642405591/womanorgod-kate-beckinsale
> 
> Neil Shepard: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/116642563846
> 
> Markos Becker: http://pixelatrix.tumblr.com/post/117692496271/silverfoxmen-christopher-gernon-model


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